


Deep down inside your mind, a memory warm and dear

by lunarblossoms



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:36:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26496514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarblossoms/pseuds/lunarblossoms
Summary: EmetWol Week Day 4 : SleepApparently, Zeph's ideal afternoon is napping with Emet-Selch.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 11





	Deep down inside your mind, a memory warm and dear

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place a few days before my day 3 fic. In Zeph's canon, he and Emet have a very close connection so all Zeph has to do is call for Emet and he'll appear in his chambers. Zeph loves spending time with Emet so he calls for him often and Emet, though he still tries to deny it... being around Zeph is nice for him too. The only times Emet doesn't show up are if he's off brooding or (as in the case of this fic) napping.
> 
> Title comes from the song Eventide by Asgeir.

Zeph has been all over the Crystarium from top to bottom more than once. 

He had thought to use the aethernet to get around quickly but he had ultimately decided against it, since he figured it would be better to check every possible spot if he simply walked through on his own. But he's more than a little disappointed that his tiresome search has yielded no results whatsoever so far- not a single lead- and on top of that, his feet are now starting to ache from all the walking. It's not as if he isn't used to walking, when he's done nothing but travel for the better part of his life, but sometimes… Sometimes the walking only feels worth it if there's something to show for it.

He doesn't want to give up, because he wouldn't know what else to do with his day if he did, but it certainly would have made his life a lot easier if a particular Ascian had come when called for this morning.

It's unusual to say the least, and even more strange that Zeph hasn't managed to find him.

He's been so thorough, too...

How many secret spots exist in the walls of the Crystarium that one might feasibly be able to find a napping Ascian? He knows the man is here somewhere- he had said as much the previous night before parting ways with the group after they returned from Rak'tika, with the Lightwarden of the Greatwood now vanquished. He had told Zeph that he would wait with them until Alisaie returned from her queries in Amh Araeng, so he's definitely lurking in some hidden location that Zeph hasn't checked yet.

But where… He feels like he's been everywhere already. Behind the Rookery, the strong smell of straw permeating the air, and green and yellow feathers littering the ground; around the greenery of the Hortorium, plants and medicines on shelves, and the large tree with purple leaves that spirals up to the level above that always makes Zeph feel nostalgic; among the books and the smell of musty pages in the Cabinet of Curiosities, piles of tomes on tables and on the floor, the unmistakable sense of knowledge permeating the quiet of the library; to the left and right of the Dossal Gate, open space that only seems to be occupied by a solitary soldier from the guard taking a break from his duties; and not to mention every single nook and cranny in between that caught his eye besides.

Is he deliberately hiding from Zeph? He's never done that before but why else would it seem that he's nowhere to be found, as if Zeph's searching for a grain of sand on the seashore itself? Mayhap he's overthinking this…

He sighs as he walks past the bustling Musica Universalis Markets back toward the Pendants, considering what options remain to him. Maybe he should return to his chambers and call out for him once more, even if it seems pointless. It's possible the call was missed the first time for one reason or another, and that he might appear now should Zeph attempt to summon him again. At the very least, it's not as if he's making any progress out here so it can't hurt to try.

Mind made up, he starts to make his way up the steps and back toward the familiar, white building. However, as he nears it, his eyes wander to the area beside it, tracing the scenery there: small groupings of trees, both apple and taller white trunks with violet leaves, alongside a cloth awning that looks as if it might have been used by a merchant of some sort in the past. He hadn't noticed it before but it's a comfortable, quiet spot, just the kind where one might have a picnic with their family or take an afternoon nap under the shaded boughs. How quaint…

Without thinking about it, almost as if drawn to the spot by some unseen force, Zeph begins to step closer- and that's when he catches sight of something that causes his heart to skip a beat, warmth flooding his chest in sudden waves: a pair of recognizable black boots poking out from behind one of the apple trees. Apparently his search hasn't been quite so fruitless after all.

He immediately breaks into a jog, closing the distance in a matter of seconds as he rounds the tree and finds exactly who he expected and hoped for.

"Emet," he says without hesitating, the same warmth pulsing into his lungs and out into his tone, because Zeph can never seem to control himself when it comes to Emet. As if he wears his heart on his sleeve, affection bleeding from his bloodstream into his limbs and his mouth, flowing into his words.

The Ascian lays stretched out across the ground, leaning against the base of the apple tree with his arms folded over his stomach and legs crossed. His face is the very picture of peace, his eyelashes gently fluttering over pale cheeks, brows relaxed, and perfectly smooth lips slightly parted with the rise and fall of his chest. As opposed to his normal smirk and the over abundance of confident charisma he usually boasts... in sleep, he's much softer, less guarded and sharp at the edges. Not exactly vulnerable but… Something about the image of Emet like this takes root in Zeph's chest, leaves and flowers growing upward around his heart as if the cavity were a garden. 

He's so beautiful that Zeph finds himself momentarily winded, like the air has been knocked from his lungs faster than even a blow from a sin eater, and he just stands there breathless, staring dumbly for several seconds. He would probably stare forever if he could, but Emet's lips purse a moment later before one twinkling, golden eye pops open to give him a pointed look.

"...What," Emet says. Despite the fact that Zeph has clearly just woken him up from his nap, his voice contains no remnants of sleep and after another moment, both eyes are open and he's frowning at Zeph, though the expression lacks the displeasure one might expect. In fact, Emet doesn't really seem to mind the intrusion at all and that makes Zeph feel all the more warm, a fluttering sensation blooming under his ribs, like butterflies flitting about the flowers there, as he moves closer and begins to settle himself beside Emet.

"I was looking for you, you know," he says, sitting down next to Emet on the ground and shifting so he can lean back against the tree as well, his shoulder almost close enough to touch Emet's. The ground isn't exactly comfortable but Zeph couldn't even think about complaining, not when this is precisely where he wanted to spend his day: right at Emet's side.

"Were you," Emet replies, and to Zeph's delight, he doesn't shy away from Zeph's presence in the slightest, remaining where he lays even when Zeph leans closer.

"I'm glad I found you," he hums. It's strange but something in the words feels like it carries more meaning than he can quite understand, vague sentimentality lingering in the back of his mind like morning fog. As if he's said something similar before… Or perhaps it was Emet that said it, he doesn't know.

Emet eyes him again, raising an eyebrow incredulously. "Don't you have better company to keep?"

"I think not." Zeph is beaming at him without thinking about it, his earlier frustrations gone with the cool breeze floating through the Crystarium. "It's your company I desire," he says earnestly. "So here is where I intend to stay."

And how is Emet supposed to argue with that? He shakes his head and Zeph can see the smallest of smiles pulling at the corners of his lips.

It's… nostalgic, somehow. The same feeling that always seems to settle in the spaces between Zeph's bones, a mix of contentment along with yearning for something he still can't quite remember, that always finds its way to the surface of his mind when he spends time alone with Emet like this… It clings to him now, wistful warmth bubbling up just underneath his skin. Maybe one day he'll know what it means but for now, he'll let it be. This is enough.

"Emet," he says. He shifts closer again, close enough that when he begins to lean over, he can rest his head against Emet's shoulder. Like puzzle pieces fitting into place, it feels completely natural for them to rest like this together. "Will you… tell me about the past?"

Emet makes no move to pull away. "... What do you wish to know?"

Zeph hums again. "Anything. Everything."

"... Insatiable." Emet lets out a mildly exasperated chuckle, but Zeph can feel the fondness in it, almost palpable in the air around them while the flowers in his chest climb higher. "Fine." No argument; simple acceptance. Zeph wonders if they've done this before.

"Long ago... Long before war, suffering, strife, and hatred; before the beginning and the end of time, there existed a paradise. It was not perfect by any means... but it was home and there was not a soul who did not cherish it. The people were kind and gentle, always striving to better their community, and no one wanted for the basic comforts of daily life, for they were always given. There were no battles fought, no lives pointlessly lost, no wondering if or when the day might be our last... We were happy. Content. We put aside our differences and revered one another as equals. A place like the most wonderful of dreams... Amaurot."

Zeph listens to Emet with quiet reverence, hanging onto every word and letting them form an image in his mind, hovering at the back of his eyelids, as if he could walk through the very city Emet describes. A painfully familiar place: tall, dark buildings covered in tiny, glowing windows, twisting spires reaching up into the sky, cloaked figures traversing stone streets lined with bright lamps… Zeph can practically breathe the ancient air, feel the solid ground beneath his feet, lift his hand up and grasp at the brilliant blue of the sky above him, glimmering like sapphire amidst the black structures looming over him.

And Emet's voice… His tone is so much more tender than Zeph can ever recall it sounding, and he has no idea how else to describe it other than calling it home. Soothing and gentle, full of love and admiration for a place that no longer exists, and it flows like a delicate stream over Zeph's body, washing him in waves of longing. He doesn't think he's ever felt more calm and peaceful than he does in this moment. He's riding home.

So Emet can't blame him, can he? When Zeph starts to doze off, limbs becoming heavier, breathing slowing. Whether it's the exhaustion of the past few weeks catching up with him, or the comfort he feels listening to Emet's voice- how utterly and completely safe he feels with Emet- he can't say.

As he drifts off, though, his last coherent thought is the same as the sentiment he voiced earlier.

He's so glad he found Emet.

\---

In slumber, Zeph can't see the softest smile that graces Emet's face, the way he gazes at Zeph with all the fondness in the world as he reaches up and tenderly brushes his fingers through Zeph's hair, rubbing at the base of Zeph's ears. He misses the shining warmth in Emet's eyes, adoration painting his cheeks a soft rosy hue as he stares lovingly at the soul of the dearest person he never thought he would see again.

And then the Ascian settles in with him, his own eyelids drooping closed until they're both lost to the waking world.

Dreaming of a long forgotten past, of life, love and creation.


End file.
